“No let-up in the amount of work he went to on the body,” he remarked.
“All three exactly alike, must have taken hours each time,” Sarah said, shuddering noticeably. Tyler leaned forward and moved the photos a little to make the one of the objects centre of the table for both to see better.
“So this is our final riddle,” he said. “Did you think of anything on your way over here?” he asked.
“No,” Sarah said shaking her head, “Other than the possibility the number of objects is the clue and he’s saying he’s going to kill six more men before he’s done.” Tyler was amused they had both had the same idea; was it possible they’d been having it at the same time too?
“I was thinking that too,” he said.
“You dismiss it?” she asked.
“I think so, but I’ve no real reason to, save giving the killer a little credit.”
“Me too. I think he’s smarter than that.” Tyler didn’t point out that this meant the killer felt the same way about the police or the FBI.
For the next forty minutes they ran through alternate names for the items and tried the letter combinations from before in the same way and with the same negative result. They agreed to start working on different variations of letters from each word—taking into account the alternate names—and see what that yielded. Tyler seemed to make the word ‘The’ and Sarah ‘Of’ but everything else was gibberish.
“I’m going to come at this from a different angle,” Tyler said then getting up. Sarah watched as he poured two glasses of Jameson Redbreast Whiskey over a single cube of ice in each. He put hers down saying, “Only if you want it, but I’m having one.” He drank. Sarah looked at the glass a moment and then took it up and sipped it.
Another hour (and another drink) passed and still they were coming up blank. Tyler was beginning to think they had been right in the first place with the numbers being the answer.
At last Sarah flopped back on the sofa with an exhalation of exasperation, throwing her neck over the backrest and rubbing her eyes.
“I can't look at this shit anymore tonight,” she said. “It’s driving me nuts.” Tyler sat back too nodding.
“It’s annoying alright,” he said, though his patience was nowhere near exhausted yet. He glanced at the clock and saw it was almost three in the morning. Was she going to stay? Sarah yawned but still lay with her head back facing the ceiling.
“I hear your partner came back to work,” he said.
“Yeah,” she answered but there was something in her voice that wasn’t right. It could be that she was simply exhausted but Tyler didn’t think so.
“You’re not happy about it?” he asked, trying to sound surprised but not really feeling anything about it other than curiosity.
“No, it’s not that,” she said sitting forward then as though to defend herself, “It’s just...” She wanted to talk about something but she didn’t know if she could trust him with it. How many times had he seen this before in people; a hazard of the job.
“This is all off the record if that’s what you're worried about,” he smiled disarmingly at her. Sarah smiled wanly back; she was definitely tired, her eyes showing it more than any other feature of her body. She looked deep in thought another moment and then she looked at him very seriously.
“If I tell you something, can you promise me you’ll never repeat it ever again?”
“Of course,” he said. Tyler too sat forward now, mirroring Sarah to show how serious he was taking this—a trick he’d picked up interviewing people over the years.
“Malick and I were on our way back to the Academy to finish up for the day when we chanced on a grocery store robbery in progress. It was a complete fluke; we pulled up just as it went down.”
“Unlucky criminals,” Tyler said smiling, but Sarah went on in her serious manner.
“There was a shot fired, not at anyone, but Malick went to pieces. He ducked down behind the car and he couldn't do anything. I’ve never seen him like that before,” she was looking to Tyler now with a child-like expression as though she felt he would be able to explain it to her.
“This was his first day back after getting shot?” he asked, making it sound like he was making excuses for Malick. What Tyler actually thought was that Malick's career in the FBI was over, at least as a field officer. He might be fine pushing pencils around in a safe office somewhere but he was never going to be any use to Sarah in a gunfight or stand-off ever again. He had more tact than to say this to Sarah though.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Sarah said, sounding unconvinced. “It must be scary coming back from what he’s been through. Still, that wasn’t the worst of it.” She wasn’t looking at Tyler now and he allowed himself a brief look of surprise before coming and asking,
“What then?”
“I haven’t reported it, yet,” she said. There was a slight pause before she said ‘yet’ at the end of her sentence and Tyler knew she had no intention of reporting it either.
“You couldn’t have,” he said backing her decision up. “A thing like that reported by a trusted partner could be the end of things for good.” This was vague enough but also menacing enough for her to make what she wanted out of it. It suited Tyler to have something over her at all times for when she inevitably got flaky on this case and wanted to distance from him like she had on the ‘John the Baptist’ case.
“Sorry to unload,” she said, then looking to him, “I just had to tell someone about it.”
“No need to
